


Beep

by karedeviltrash, Meinhiding



Series: Karedevil fics [28]
Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Messaging app, Phone messages, Set after The Defenders and throughout Daredevil Season 3, Voicemail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 18:32:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17350394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karedeviltrash/pseuds/karedeviltrash, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meinhiding/pseuds/Meinhiding
Summary: Karen can't accept that Matt is probably dead. Foggy thinks he is, but she still has hope, and his phone number in her contacts list.





	Beep

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

Karen heard his voice for the third time in a row, tears falling nonstop. 

She had called his number the minute she got home from the precinct. Just because, just to hear his voice and maybe pretend that everything was OK for like three seconds. As if she could leave a message about something and he would get back to her. As if there was a way to tell him about the article she was writing on the case she had him interviewed for or about how Foggy missed the three of them hanging out at Josie's. 

At this moment she would give anything to hear him picking up the phone, safe and sound, and chat about anything. Anything, really, would do. But then the beep came and she did not say a word, could not think of anything to say, so she hung up. Again. 

Karen filled the glass with more wine and dialled his number again.

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

She hung up again. _Stop calling him, he won't answer or return your call,_ she thought. She dialled again. 

__

__

____

____

“Hey, Matt—” she tried to swallow the tears. "Erm... I'm calling to tell you that—" 

_Just breathe, Karen. ___

____

____

"The article is doing fine. You know, my editor said something about calling you to represent the newspaper—" A lump in her throat forced her to stop for a few seconds. "Anyway, when you... can, give me a call, ok?... Ok, then."

She hung up, feeling stupid. _Give me a call? Really? Come on, Karen, it’s not like he can— Damn it. _She shook her head and threw away the thought of Matt’s corpse under the rubble.__

____

____

_____ _

_____ _

____

____

_____ _

_____ _

She got up from the couch and went to the bathroom. She took a shower and fell on her bed, without even taking off the covers.

The next morning, she woke up with a massive headache and called in sick. Ellison understood that she needed time, so he gave her the rest of the week off. She thought it could help. Some time to cry her eyes out and sink into despair before she was ready to pretend that she was ok, that she had accepted that Matt was not coming back. Because he was not coming back.

Those days she could not get him out of her head. Even before she opened her eyes in the morning, he was there, first thought in her mind. And she knew it was not the wisest thing to do, but she spent those days and nights thinking about him and looking at his contact picture on her phone, his smile tempting her. She knew she could not talk to him, but she could at least hear his voice.

So she dialled his number once, twice, three times, just to hear his voice. 

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

And then she dialled it again, and again, until she found herself leaving short little messages on his voicemail. Other times she would just listen to his voice and hang up to write a quick message and send it to him.

“Oh, Matt, is it crazy that every time I phone you I still hope that you’ll pick up the phone?”

“I know I shouldn’t be doing this, but I have this feeling that you’re still out there somewhere.”

“I miss you, Matt. I know we weren’t talking much lately, but this is different. I— I can’t stand the idea of losing you for good.”

And those little messages she would write or leave on his voicemail soon became longer ones.

“I— I think I’m going to put some money into your bank account. I wanna make sure your rent is paid for when—.” She gulped aware of how crazy that sounded. “Well, and your phone bill too or I won’t be able to phone you anymore.” She smiled and wondered if he could feel it at the other end of the line. That is if he were at the other end of the line. “I— I like the sound of your voice and— and I hope you get to hear these messages some day.”

Those days passed and she was back to work, but she kept sending random messages to him. Sometimes once a day, sometimes every couple of days. Most of the time they were not so sad anymore, they had become more conversational and light-hearted. She was getting used to telling him about how her day went or about something she read and found funny. It soon became a routine, an unhealthy habit that seemed to give her some comfort only to take it away when she hung up.

"...so this guy at work comes and tells me that an apple is more effective in keeping you awake than caffeine. Can you believe that? Of course I told him I'll still stick to coffee.” She added laughing, knowing he would agree. “Anyway, I’m going to have a shower and go to bed. Even an apple could not keep me awake much longer tonight." She smiled and hung up. 

"Hey, I’m watching this documentary and—” she stopped to take a bite of a reheated piece of pizza, “did you know astronauts wear socks all the time so the skin of their feet don't peel off? Isn’t that gross?" She asked laughing.

“You remember that song I told you about? It’s been on my head all day long. All day! Why is it that that always happens with the worst ones, huh?” 

“You know, today has been stressful but I handed in the article I told you about and I’m going home and I am ordering some food from our favorite Indian place to celebrate. I think I deserve that.”

She was on her phone while gathering some things from her desk, her back to the door. That is how she did not see Foggy pushing the half-open door, hearing everything she was saying before he could say a word.

_“Our favorite Indian place? _” He asked in a whisper that startled her.__

____

____

She hung up straightaway. 

“Not even a goodbye? Looks like I caught you in the middle of something,” he said with a smile on his face. 

“No, that— that was nothing.” She answered shaking her head and avoiding to look at him.

“You mean _no one _? _Our _favorite Indian place sounds like someone to me.” He smiled.____

_____ _

_____ _

“It’s not that,” she said trying to find a way out of it without exposing herself. 

“Karen, it’s ok if you’re dating someone, really.” 

It was painful to see how supportive he was about her dating someone else, nice as it was.

“I’m— I’m not, ok?” She repeated, her voice tensing despite her efforts to control it.

“You don’t need to hide it from me. It’s fine.”

And there it was, the approval, the encouragement she did not need at all.

“I’m telling you, that’s not it,” she insisted shaking her head again.

“You’ve been through so much and—”

“Foggy, really, it’s not what you think,” she interrupted him.

“And you have every right to be happy, Karen, you’ve—” he kept talking, ignoring what she was saying. 

Until she said his name.

“It was Matt’s voicemail.” 

Foggy’s look made her regret her words immediately. 

“Tell me I did not hear what I just heard.” 

His tone was sadder than she had hoped. She would have been ok with him being angry, but that sadness made things even worse.

“It’s nothing. I’ve just— I’ve been leaving messages on his phone, ok?” 

She knew how that sounded. She was well aware of it. She had told herself that same speech she was about to hear many times before. But depressing and ill as it sounded, his voice was there, a phone call away. And it was too hard to say no to that. That was all she had left of him.

“You’ve done _what _?”__

____

____

His eyes were wide open. She sighed knowing there was no way he would be ok with it.

“I know, I know, Foggy, you don’t need to tell me how stupid I am.”

"It’s not that, it’s—” 

He sighed and got closer to her only to see her taking a step backwards. 

“Karen, you've gotta stop it. It's not healthy. Matt's gone.” 

He could feel she was about to say something so he hurried to continue.

“I don't wanna believe that either, trust me, he is my best friend. I mean, he was. But it's been almost two months..."

"I know it sounds insane, Foggy,” she murmured, afraid to hear what she was about to say out loud, “but I have this feeling that he's not dead."

"Karen..."

"I know, Foggy, but it's something I can't explain. It's not wishful thinking... ok, _maybe _it's a lot of wishful thinking, I know he can’t have survived it this time. But still, I have this feeling, in the back of my mind that—''__

____

____

He moved towards her again, and this time she shrugged and offered a sad smile. So he put his arms around her and they hugged and cried like they had done weeks ago, back in the precinct, when they learned the worst possible news.

“You need to stop it, Karen, or this grieving process will never end,” he said against her neck.

“I know, Foggy. I’ll try, I will try,” she promised in between sobs.

And she did. She tried, as hard as she could. But it didn’t seem to be hard enough.

_Just once. Just this time._

____

____

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

_Just once more. Just to hear his voice. ___

____

____

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

_God, how I miss him. ___

____

____

_***This is Matt Murdock. Leave a message and I'll call you as soon as I can.***_

So she kept phoning him, but not as often as before. Only during her morning coffee, sometimes during her lunch break, when she got home after work, when she could not sleep… But she managed to control her urge to talk to him, to his voicemail. One day at a time, until she got the first hint that he might actually be alive. 

“It’s me again. I’ve— I’ve just interviewed this woman at a hospital and she’s mentioned a man with a black mask. And… Is it you Matt? Is it? Oh, please, I— I need it to be you.” 

_They never found the body. It can be him. Please, let it be him. ___

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So she went to see Foggy but he believed it could be anyone, but not him. Not Matt. _He’s dead _, he had said. _Dead _.____

_____ _

_____ _

“Matt, please, if that was you, could you please, _please _reach one of us? This is driving me crazy.”__

____

____

She sighed and hung up. Then she dialled again. 

“Or maybe Foggy’s right. Maybe, maybe I should stop phoning you. Because I don’t know if I’m mad for being hopeful anymore. But I— I can’t accept that you’re dead. I— I just can’t.”

She knew she needed to do something about it, to stop thinking about him. She could not be looking for him everywhere she went, feeling him wherever she was. Because that was all she could do, and several sleepless nights investigating Vancorp and The Red Lion National Bank and Fisk being a menace was not helping either. She was hitting rock bottom again and there was nothing she could do about it.

But then Foggy went to see her at her office, he closed the door behind him, and everything changed.

“I promised I would never lie for Matt again. Not to you.” Foggy said trying to find the words to tell her the news. 

“No, you have to just— you need to just tell me,” she said breathing deeply.

“It’s Matt? They found a body?” She asked fearing the worst. 

But then her expression changed as she felt both angry and relieved. 

“Matt’s alive.”

Foggy nodded as she took in the news that confirmed what she had been feeling all along but could not let herself believe: he was alive. He was alive.

As soon as they left Matt’s apartment and she said goodbye to Foggy, she grabbed her phone.

“Why have you let us think you were dead, Matt? How, I mean, why would you cut us off? What have we ever done to you? We always tried to understand you and, and to support you and— and don’t you even consider that you’ve done this to protect us.” She scoffed. “I bet you will, won’t you? You, asshole.”

It took her a couple of minutes to take her phone again. 

“And you need to pay me back for your rent,” she exhaled and hung up, just to dial again a few seconds later.

“And if you happen to get another phone, I hope you have the decency to at least answer my calls because I may be mad at you, but I miss you, and— and I’m glad you’re alive.”

It was not until a few days after Father Lantom’s funeral that her phone beeped, first call in the morning, and she saw his irresistible smile shining on her screen. She slid to answer it, grinning when she heard his voice.

“Hi Karen.” 

“Hi Matt,” she said smiling and then licking her lips despite knowing he could hear that.

“You don’t happen to know who filled my voicemail and sent me a let’s say generous amount of written messages too, right?”

She laughed and blushed.

“So you— you got a new phone, huh?” She wondered if he would find it creepy or adorable. 

_Adorable? Really? Take it easy, Karen. ___

____

____

“Yep. I did, yesterday evening. And I spent a few hours listening to them.”

“Oh god, were they that long?” She asked feeling embarrassed.

“Well, sort of,” he laughed too, “but the problem was that I could not stop listening to them.”

“Really?” She asked biting her lip. 

_Maybe he did not find them adorable, but definitely not creepy either. ___

____

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“Several times, actually. Every single one of them.”

_Ok, maybe adorable could fit after all. ___

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“Did you?” She sighed.

“Yes. It was painful sometimes but great at the same time. I don’t know… What I do know is that I may not get to answer next time you phone.” He laughed when he heard her laughter. “I like being able to listen to them more than once, you know.”

She nodded and whispered a _yes _she knew he could hear from the other side of the line.__

____

____

“So what do you say we grab a coffee before we meet Foggy? I couldn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Sure, where shall we—?

“Just come downstairs, I’m already at your door.” 

“Is that how sure you were I’d say yes?”

_Am I flirting? After everything that’s happened, am I really flirting? ___

____

____

“Do you need me to remind you what I’ve been doing all night? You owe me. It’s your fault I’m sleep deprived, Miss Page.”

She laughed shaking her head. _Well, he’s flirting too, so... ___

____

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“I’ll be right there.”

In just a few minutes she was there, watching him smile as she opened the door and joined him. She offered her arm and he held it moving close to her. 

“I loved every one of your messages. But this,” he said squeezing her elbow, “this is so much better.”

She smiled and moved his hand downwards until she was holding it in hers.

“I know,” she said.

“And it’ll get even better, I promise.” He added as he moved their hands to his lips to kiss hers. 

He felt her heart beating faster and her temperature rising in all the right places. 

“Well, next time I’m the cause of a sleepless night, I’ll try to have everything we need at home so we don’t have to leave the house in the morning,” she whispered into his ear.

It was his turn now to feel his body responding just as hers, and when he felt her lips approaching his cheek, he could not stop himself and turned his head to capture her lips with his. 

_Yes, this is definitely better. ___

**Author's Note:**

> Story inspired by the songs Just Breathe, by Pearl Jam and Gone, Gone, Gone by Phillip Phillips.


End file.
